


Snowstorm And Flake

by greenkangaroo



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Haku and Chouichi are damaged in similar ways, M/M, Not linear, and they try their best, canon character death, prominent OC, relationships and character lists to be updated as necessary, sorry Zabuza
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 16:17:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16836136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenkangaroo/pseuds/greenkangaroo
Summary: Momochi Zabuza has died, but his tool, or his student, or perhaps his son has lived. Haku has nowhere to go and Kakashi has an Idea.Akimichi Chouichi is not a fan of Kakashi's ideas. Nor is he a fan of children or teaching. But Ice Release is rare, and Konoha is a ninvillage that knows the value of a weapon.Snowstorm, meet Flake.NOTE: like all my other AUs this is ongoing and not linear. Prompts are considered. Be not afraid.





	1. Barometric Pressure

**Author's Note:**

> In the hustle and bustle of Tumblr shooting itself in the foot I have decided to post this AU so that it is all in one place. Please note that while m/m relationships have been tagged, there will not be a romantic relationship between Haku and Chouichi.

“When you pick a battle, Kakashi.” 

“Technically, Lord Hokage, my students picked the battle.” 

“Be that as it may,” Hiruzen gave Kakashi a considering look over his pipe, “You’ve left us with quite a mess. The Council is displeased.” 

Kakashi shrugged. “I’d have thought they’d be happy.” 

“Happy being saddled with the protege of a Kiri missing-nin and terrorist?” 

“Happy with his power, sir,” Kakashi said pointedly. “We have verbal confirmation from both Momochi and the boy himself that he has no loyalties to Kiri. No intel can be found on anyone with his abilities among Mists’ forces.” 

“Yes, you outlined Haku’s abilities,” Hiruzen tapped Kakashi’s report on the downright unbelievable Bridgebuilder mission. “and while I agree they are impressive he is still a child associated even by proxy with another ninvillage who has just suffered a massive upheaval.” 

“Haku deserves a second chance, sir.” Kakashi said. 

“But is here the best place for that chance?” Hiruzen asked. 

Kakashi shook his head. “I don’t know, Lord Hokage, but we need to find out.” 

Hiruzen sighed and settled back in his chair. “The Council is of three minds on this matter. One, we release the boy with no promises or harm done.” 

“Only to follow him with ANBU and take him for option two,” Kakashi said, the lightness of his tone betrayed by the hard shine in his visible eye, “Torture and reprogramming or execution.” 

“This is what Shimura suggested with Morino’s input,” Hiruzen agreed. “Then there is option three.” He leaned forward and steepled his hands. “We integrate Haku into Konoha. Give him a home, a real education, a steady environment. We keep tabs.”

“Leave him in an apartment alone?” Kakashi asked. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Kakashi,” Hiruzen said easily, “Being alone is the last thing he needs.” Hiruzen glanced over his shoulder out the window. “To be frank, I am hoping to keep him well out of the hands of any who might wish to use him for harm. If all three of your students agreed on something, that’s reason enough to foster Haku.” 

Kakashi allowed a tiny smile at that. He hadn’t been joking- his team had all but ganged up on him when he suggested leaving Haku right where he was, sitting in front of the grave they had dug for Zabuza Momochi. 

It had made sense to both Haku and Kakashi but Naruto- and by extension Sakura and Sasuke- had a very different idea of sense. 

“You argued for option three,” Kakashi said. 

“With some success, I am a decent hand at politics in my dotage. Now, Haku will need housing- that can be taken care of. Guards, for now. Guides. A teacher.” 

“I actually had an idea about that,” Kakashi started. "two birds with one kunai as it were." 

Hiruzen’s eyebrows rose. “Oh?” 

“Haku wasn’t born in a ninvillage. What he learned he learned from Zabuza, or taught himself. He’s clearly got the power and a decent amount of finesse, but with a real teacher who is already a member of ANBU...”

Hiruzen gave Kakashi a long look. “Didn’t you once say you believed the man you’re speaking of would eat his young?” 

“I only half-meant it,” Kakashi said. 

“He’s never taught before.”

“If we want anyone else dealing with cold weather jutsus we’ll have to go all the way up to the Land of Snows,” Kakashi argued, “and that will take too long. Besides, they're not exactly fond of us.” 

“Haku is far older than our academy students.” Hiruzen countered. 

“His skills are nearly jounin level, he doesn’t need help with the basics.” 

Hiruzen’s smile was small and crafty. “I see you’ve thought this through.” 

“When you’re travelling with genin, you have a lot of time to think, Lord Hokage.” 

“Good point. Very well. Konoha thanks you for your service, Kakashi. I’ll take it from here.” 

—

Hiruzen smiled pleasantly at the man standing in front of his desk where Kakashi had been not eight hours prior. In shape he greatly resembled his father Chouza- tall and broad with wild red hair and a round face. There all similarities ended. Where Chouza was warm and welcoming, Chouichi was hard and sharp. Where Chouza was easygoing, Chouichi was shut up as tight as a clam. Where Chouza could talk a man into drinking poison, Chouichi was more likely to force-feed it to him. He was one of the finest ANBU Hiruzen had ever had. 

“Fucking WHAT?” Chouichi said, which was exactly not the way he should have been talking to his Hokage. Hiruzen found it refreshing every time. 

“It is a mission, Akimichi. I expect you to accept.” 

“Sir. Sir, I am an ANBU, not a babysitter.” 

“This young man hardly needs babysitting. He needs guidance.” 

“And you picked my name out of the hat why?!” 

“Our newest charge utilizes the same Ice Release that you are gifted with, Chouichi.” Hiruzen said. “He is young yet and has had no formal instruction.” 

“Well fuck neither did I! Tell the kid to swallow a few ice cubes and figure it out.” 

“You speak like I am giving you an option, Genbu.” Hiruzen said sharply. “As a member of ANBU you are under my direct authority and my word is your command.” 

“Lord Hokage,” the large redhead pleaded, “I am not child-friendly. Ask my father. Ask my brother. Ask ANYBODY.”

“Your track record with making children cry notwithstanding,” Hiruzen said, “I am still requiring this of you.” 

“Because of Ice Release? Sir that’s bullshit and-” 

“Because this young man has lost someone,” Hiruzen said. “someone he by all accounts loved very much, someone he believed to be his whole purpose in life. Someone he would have died for, tried to die for. Is this ringing any bells, Chouichi?”

Silence. 

“Haku is mourning,” Hiruzen said, “and he needs help only you can provide.”

“You think I have any fucking clue, sir?” Chouichi asked hoarsely. 

“I think it’s high time you found out.” Hiruzen said. “Do you accept the mission?” 

“Yes, sir.” If words could bite Hiruzen had no doubt he would be missing a few fingers. “Captain-”

“Suzaku will be informed and a temporary replacement found for missions you can sit out,” Hiruzen said. “For now your focus is to be on your student. Am I understood?” 

“Crystal.” 

“Good. He’s downstairs. And Chouichi?” 

The Akimichi turned from the door, his gaze murderous. 

“Have a little empathy,” Hiruzen said, “even if you have to steal it from your brother.” 

Chouichi gave a curt nod and left the office. The door didn’t slam, but that was the amazing thing about the Akimichi; they could make the softest actions into violence.

—

Everything was muffled like his head was underwater. 

It had been like this since he’d watched the dirt shower down over Zabuza’s still face, since he’d helped Kakashi embed the sword at the head of the grave. Shock, Sakura had told him, biting her lip and feeling his hands. You’re in shock. 

“They’re finding you a teacher,” Kakashi had told Haku as he sat in the middle of a little house they said was his now, as though he owned anything in his life. “Someone to help.” 

Haku couldn’t bring himself to swear at Kakashi, to tell him what he could do with his help and his teachers. A tiny part of him, the pragmatic part, knew this was a good thing. Knew that Konoha was taking him in and that realistically he had nowhere else to go. 

Nowhere except where Zabuza had gone, and it was a door Haku could not yet walk through. To do so would disappoint Naruto, so sunny and bright. It might even disappoint somber Sasuke who had shared rice with Haku on their journey. 

Sakura would be upset, and she had worked so hard to keep him warm on the walk to the village. 

The door of the room Haku had been told to wait in opened and Haku wasn’t certain what he had been expecting but a sudden drop in temperature wasn’t it. 

He didn’t think before drawing cold down to his fingers, growing long nails of ice and falling into a battle pose. He wasn’t armed (they’d taken everything at the gate three days ago) but that didn’t matter. Air was full of water, and water could be made into ice. 

An attack didn’t come. 

Haku blinked a few times. There was a secondary buffet of cold air but it didn’t feel cutting. It felt ticklish, almost. Far gentler than anything Haku could produce. 

There was snow falling soft and slow from a ceiling that had taken on the hue of an open pewter sky. 

Haku looked from the snow to the door. 

A man stood there. 

He was big- as tall as Zabuza, nearly twice as wide, with rounded cheeks marked with red sickle-shaped seals. His hair was a dark red, a blood-over-wood red, tied back from his face. He had heavy metal plates all over his chest and arms. There was a picture-symbol for ‘food’ on his left bicep. 

He focused eyes the color of a glacier’s heart on Haku. 

“Not bad, kid.” He said. He held out one massive hand, and within it a globe of ice began to form. “Not bad at all.” 

“You?” Haku whispered and it was too much, it was all too much. 

Haku didn’t realize that the underwater feeling had gone until the man put the globe on the floor and carefully rolled it over to Haku. It bumped against his foot and shattered into snowflakes. 

“Me."


	2. Chaperone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a routine.

There was a Routine. 

Haku wasn’t used to a routine- at least, not the kind where you woke up in the same bed every morning and had a place to stow your belongings that wasn’t in a travel pack. He’d stayed long stretches at clients’ mansions, in inns and bathhouses and on one memorable mission a brothel, but never anywhere longer than a few weeks. 

It was starting to grate. 

Naruto walked him to the Akimichi Compound every day and his chattering helped. Sometimes he was joined by Sakura or Sasuke. When Naruto wasn’t available, an extremely loud and flamboyant man in green (with a younger man who bore a strong resemblance to him, yet claimed no relation) would do the escorting. 

The intention, Haku was sure, was to draw his attention away from the four ANBU who shadowed him wherever he went. It was a hollow gesture made by a pragmatic and wickedly clever ninvillage. He could appreciate that. He doubly appreciated that the ANBU knew he knew they were there. 

He had no doubt they could kill him, just as he had no doubt his new Sensei could kill him. Chouichi had not said he was an ANBU ninja, but. 

Like acknowledged like, as it were. Even if Haku was ‘a baby’ according to Chouichi. 

On this particular morning, Haku opened his front door- anticipating someone who wasn’t Naruto, as Naruto would have come charging into the little house he had been provided, probably demanding food- to find the most curious thing. 

A tiny Chouichi-sensei. 

Further inspection informed that no, this was not a tiny Chouichi, rather a young man likely close to Haku’s age of the same clan. The boy’s hair was brown to Chouichi’s red and far shorter. The marks on his cheeks were vermillion spirals instead of crimson sickles. He wore a long scarf and was holding a bag of chips. 

“Hi,” he said. “You’re Haku, right?” 

Haku nodded. 

“I’m Akimichi Chouji,” the boy said around his chips. “It’s nice to meet you!” 

Ah. 

The little brother. 

“Where is Naruto?” Haku asked. 

“Team Seven had a mission,” Chouji said apologetically. “Kakashi-sensei asked me to come pick you up for your training session.” 

“I see.” Haku closed and locked his door. A laughable thing, a lock, yet he was enjoying the novelty of it. “Let’s go.” 

“Um, okay.” Chouji finished his chip bag and carefully folded it up before tucking it away. 

The walk to the Akimichi compound was one Haku was beginning to know well. He pinpointed his ANBU minders, noted that the bakery down the street had fixed their leaking gutter, and focused his attention on Chouji. 

He was surprised to find Chouji watching him back. 

“I like your hair,” Chouji said. 

Haku blinked. Of all the things that had been said to him since arriving in Konoha, that was not one of them. “Why?” He asked. 

“It’s very neat,” Chouji said, “but still- stylish? Ino would say stylish. Ino would like you. Or she’d think she liked you. The idea of you, anyway.” 

“Who is Ino?” Haku asked. 

Chouji shrugged. “A friend.” 

Such an easy deflection from such an innocent face. Haku smiled. 

“Would I like Ino?” He asked. 

“Probably not,” Chouji said apologetically, “at least not until you got to know her. Ino is really strong-minded. Sometimes that scares people off.” 

“Not you, though.” 

“Oh I’m plenty scared,” Chouji told Haku, “but when she’s not strong minded she could use some peace and quiet. I’m good at that. And eating. You did eat, didn’t you?” Chouji looked suddenly worried. “Chouichi said I had to make sure you ate because your taste buds are probably only just growing back.” 

Haku snorted. “There is nothing wrong with my taste buds and yes, I ate.” 

The stove was another novelty he was getting used to. Heat without fire or smoke, without a need for concealment jutsus or someone on lookout. 

“Good. Food is important.” 

“So I’ve gathered,” Haku said. They walked a little more in peaceful quiet. Chouji clearly didn’t feel the need to fill the air around him, like Naruto did. Chouji was doing a very efficient job of guarding Haku’s weaker left side, his seemingly meandering path bringing him in a back and forth crescent just outside of Haku’s short range ice attacks.

“Are you worried?” Haku asked. 

“About what?” 

“Being attacked.” 

Chouji looked at him. “Walls are built where they’re needed and as fast as possible.” He said. 

Haku gave the other boy a quizzical look but didn’t have any more time to ask what he meant- they were at the compound gate and the guards there were waving them on. 

Chouichi was waiting on the other side. “Haku,” he greeted his student, “we’ve got a special request for your training.” 

“What kind of request?” Haku asked, rightfully suspicious. 

“The kind that requires a briefing with the Hokage so move your scrawny rear. Chouji, thanks.” 

“Not a problem,” Chouji told his big brother and turned on his heel for another path through the clan lands. “Bye, Haku! Good luck!” He waved before taking off at a short jog.

Haku watched him go. “He seems kind,” he said to his teacher. Chouichi chuckled. “He is. Too kind, sometimes. Someday he’ll find a balance. Now. Did you-” 

“Yes, I ate,” Haku said and Chouichi laughed that deep-bellied laugh that Haku was beginning to appreciate. “Perfect. Let’s go.”


	3. To Be Wielded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world keeps spinning, even when by all rights it shouldn't.

Sometimes, Haku went numb. 

The triggers were different every time. It could be a man’s laughter outside, familiar enough to ache (Zabuza so rarely laughed, such a precious sound) or the way water dripped into the street from the gutters. Once it was the sound of a sharpening stone being rasped over a butcher’s knife. 

All these things had in common was the taste of a dead man’s ghost and they grabbed Haku in his heart of hearts and squeezed, reminding him of what a failure he was, what a useless tool, cheap and yielding to have failed his master so easily what good are you, boy? 

Those days, Haku _hated_ Chouichi. 

He hated the way the big man would sit and watch him, hated how he never left but never approached. Haku was being watched like the medical ninja watched and he loathed it. 

One day Haku’s numbness gave way to rage, pure and white and blinding. Why was he here, in this peaceful village full of high and mighty liars? Why wasn’t he underground too, side by side with his master, where he belonged? 

Why? 

When he launched himself at Chouichi, he was expecting the downward swing of one mighty fist. He dodged it, filled his hands with senbon and threw them-into an ice clone which broke into shards. From above came a shower of shuriken. Haku escaped into an ice mirror. 

On an on it went across the rocky expanse they used for training. By the time they came locked kunai to kunai they had turned the temperate late spring into a tundra. 

Chouichi’s blue eyes were calm. Even as Haku snarled profanities and hate-laced diatribes his face didn’t change. Haku made for a belly cut, failed slipping on ice that wasn’t his own. He fell headfirst into Chouichi’s chest. 

He burst into tears. The tears became sorrowful shrieking. He dropped his kunai, tangled his fingers in his hair and pulled. Nothing was worth this. To hell with Naruto, with Sakura and Sasuke and everyone else in this miserable village and this miserable world. 

Haku sobbed for the unfairness of his life, of Zabuza’s, of his existence as a tool and his master’s as a bitter lonely man. The boy cried and screamed and when he had run out of anything but the violent shaking of his core realized he was sitting against Chouichi, forehead on the man’s shoulder, slumped like a tired toddler. 

Chouichi carefully rubbed his back. 

“Once upon a time,” the other ice ninja murmured, “There were two young boys.” 

Haku sniffed. 

“One was a genius. Great at everything, loved by his family and his village. The other wasn’t much. He had passable skills, a short temper. He had a neat kekkei genkai, though, so he was teamed with the genius.” 

A pause. 

“The short tempered boy adored the genius,” Chouichi said. “He would have done anything for him. Even after their team was dissolved he followed his genius like a flower follows the sun.” 

Haku rubbed his eyes. They burned. 

“Then the genius did something bad.” Chouichi’s voice remained steady. “Something really bad. He left the village that had loved him, and he left the short tempered boy behind, and he might as well have been dead.” 

Haku sat up a little, moved so that he was beside Chouichi. He closed his eyes and hung onto the larger man’s sleeve. Chouichi wrapped an arm around him. 

“The boy left behind was angry.” Chouichi said. “He was angry and sad and frustrated and he didn’t believe not for one minute that there wasn’t an explanation but the village wanted to forget, so it did. He couldn’t. And he got madder and madder and sadder and sadder until finally his Clan told him he was too angry and too sad and couldn’t do the job he’d been preparing to do all his life.” 

Haku sniffed again, fished around for a piece of cloth to blow his nose. Chouichi offered him one before continuing, “but that didn’t hurt as bad as the realization that he’d been left behind because the genius didn’t see much value in him or reason to trust him. That hurt most of all.” 

Chouichi looked up at the sky. “There were people to help, even though the boy didn’t want help. He wanted to be angry forever. But his other teammate, the one he’d pushed away, she wouldn’t let him be. Neither would his little brother.” 

Haku’s giggle was garbled and wet but Chouichi smiled anyway. 

“So the short tempered boy grew into a solitary man who worked hard to be dangerous because that was all he thought he could be good at anymore, since he'd failed at protecting the person he cherished most.” Chouichi concluded. 

“Does it ever stop aching?” Haku whispered. 

Chouichi shook his head. “No.”

Haku took a deep breath. Chouichi offered him a water bottle .Haku took it and drank, then rubbed his eyes again before starting, “Once upon a time there was a little boy and his mother and father, in a village where it was always snowing.” 

The sun was on its way down by the time they got up. Most of the ice had melted, creating pools here and there. Chouichi led Haku around them. 

“What do I do now?” Haku asked him. 

“You stop looking for someone to wield you and start wielding yourself.” Chouichi replied. 

“How?” 

“First step,” Chouichi said to him, “is to remember your name. What is it?” 

“Haku.” 

“Again.” 

“Haku?” 

“What is your name?” 

“I’m Haku,” Haku said a little testily, then he blinked. He looked down at his hands. 

“I’m Haku.” He said again in wonder. 

“Yes you are.” Chouichi said. “Good to meet you, Haku. Let’s go eat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chouichi's established backstory is mentioned a little here. More of it can be seen in the fic Stages and early pieces of it can be gleaned from my fic What Even.


	4. Like Father Like Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know all you weebs wanted this so here it is.

In the moments before he is sealed away Zabuza can acknowledge at last that the ninja who has trapped him is Haku.

Oh how he’s grown. Lost none of his softness and gained so much strength. How much time has passed? How old is Haku now- seventeen, eighteen? 

His mirrors are unbreakable, the air around them so cold that most human backup has had to retreat in the face of near-certain frostbite. 

Haku is an adult in this war where Zabuza has been placed like a piece on a shogi board, ripped from a place he doesn’t remember but knows was the peace he’d never found in life. 

He’s got a konoha hitai-ate on; did he go with the mirror nin, then? Create a new life and forget the years long nightmare of being the tool of a mercenary? 

Zabuza hopes he has forgotten, knows he hasn’t when Haku says, quietly and with no little reverence, “Zabuza-sama.” 

He begins to cry, though his face remains stoic. 

Zabuza can feel the cloth winding its way up his body. One brave sand nin, it seems, will risk the cold to remove one more living corpse from the battlefield. 

“I never wanted to leave you,” Zabuza says.

“I never wanted to lose you,” Haku replies. “but we don’t always get what we want.” 

“Haku-” says the sand nin that Zabuza can’t see, and Haku shakes his head. “Not yet. Please.”

“Haku we don’t have time-” 

“Give him a goddamn minute, Shojuro,” comes a rough voice. A man comes into view, sliding easily between the mirrors. He’s big, with red hair and sickles on his cheeks. “Go on, kid. Last chance you’re gonna get.” 

Haku squares his shoulders. They used to be so narrow. They’re still not broad, but there’s a power to them, like a kingfisher spreading its wings. Zabuza prepares himself. 

“Thank you,” Haku says. 

He isn’t prepared for that. 

“I never did anything in my life worth anyone’s thanks,” Zabuza says because it’s true. Haku shakes his head. 

“Yes, you did.” He says. He smiles. 

His smile hasn’t changed, still pure as driven snow. 

“Thank you for raising me, Zabuza-sama. Rest now. I’m fine.”

Zabuza clenches his teeth. “I didn’t raise you. I didn’t-” 

“Fuck’s sake,” the redhead says, “shut your goddamn mouth and tell your son goodbye properly.” 

Zabuza’s eyes go wide and so do Haku’s. Then the young ice nin laughs. 

“You always had a way with words, Chouichi-sensei,” he says. 

“Well one of us has to,” the redhead mutters. 

Zabuza looks at him. “You. You did this for him.” 

“I didn’t do anything,” Chouichi tells the Demon. “He did it himself. All I did was push. Stay dead, Momochi. I’ll keep an eye on your brat for you.” 

Zabuza can’t help the broad grin that crosses his face even as the cloth works its way higher up his body. “He is a handful sometimes, isn’t he?” 

“You’re telling me,” Chouichi says. “Haku?” 

Haku looks from Chouichi to Zabuza. He swallows hard. 

“Goodbye, father.” He whispers. 

Zabuza’s last sight in the living world is Haku’s pure smile growing that much wider, his second set of final words a quiet, “Goodbye, son.”


End file.
